open

[inkindled]

WHO: Matthias, Nikos, Salvio (tbd if Doki, Val, and Darras will get open stuff. how did I get all of these characters) + YOU
WHAT: just open stuff, man
WHEN: NOW
WHERE: various
NOTES: tiny bit of self-harm but it's so small and it gets fixed so fast

Comments

[heirring]

[She contemplates the space below the window where the alleged bin once sat and is now being occupied by a crate containing sixty copies of the poorly researched and extraordinarily badly illustrated By Way of the Minanter: A Traveller's Guide to the Flora and Fauna Observed Along Its Banks by Kazan Pantazis (who evidently had been in possession of enough disposable income to both self publish and donate large swaths of his travel diary).

'They will make excellent kindling in a few months,' she had suggested upon the crate's receipt and review.

Eventually, with great effort, she recalls—]

Oh. Yes. I believe the bulk of its contents was sorted into... [what was the section's name? No matter] One over and two up.

[assistente]

Ah. Yes--

['We can't be seen to burn books, Poppell,' Salvio had said at her vicious suggestion, holding six copies of the Pantazis in his arms. But he had said it in the melancholic and slightly tired way that he says things that he would agree with, if it were not for his position and all of the trust and responsibility contained therein.

That was a very different day. Well. Not so different. Base Operations has a pleasant predictability to it: you know that you will always be busy.

Salvio now pushes the files he had scraped forward into the back of the drawer once more, and begins to refill the front with the files and folios that he had removed.]

Has there been any word on the lumber requisition? Ah, but--perhaps I am too early to ask. The um, letters-- they were sent out just... earlier this week, yes?

[heirring]

It is perhaps slightly early. However there was word already from stonemason with respect to the repair of the kitchen's exterior wall, and we are to receive some of the supply for that by the end of the week. Not that there seems to really be much harm in having such a large back door there in this weather.

[Unhooking her apron from the back of her desk chair - for in this environment she would rather avoid the possibility of ink being spilled on her after The Incident of last winter -, she ties it on while drifting to join him before the great drawers and cabinets.]

Is there a particular bit of received correspondence you're after, Seneschal?

[assistente]

Yes.

[Salvio places the last of the files back into their place in the drawer (or at least, their current place, until a better system is devised) and taps his fingers on the faces of the drawers as he stands. One over, two up.]

Oh. That was-- to the idea of the um, back door. If it was not so... destructive. It would almost be nice. Yes. Um, but I am glad to hear of the-- news of the repair, and... Um, I am looking from correspondence from the, um. The man. The--abomination. There was--a sort of reference to it, to, um, to previous correspondence, from Riftwatch, in a letter that was found. I don't know if you-- if you, um, heard--?

[skulltasm]

[ Perhaps unheard goes the tap-tap-tapping from one of the unopened file drawers. Not their fault, really, it's very faint. ]

[heirring]

Oh, from the mage! [is a brief spark of light for the pleasure of identifying that much amidst the Seneschal's verbal revisions quickly sucked cold for the unpleasantness of the subject. She frowns at the cabinets.]

I'd heard some part of it. An account of what the poor man had to say before things went so badly, but no—[Tap, tap. It's probably nothing.]—I wasn't aware we'd been corresponding with him. That certainly seems...

[She finds she doesn't have a word ready for it. To call it unfortunate feels somehow an understatement.]

Let us say complicated.

[assistente]

Yes-- yes, the--

[The mage. Salvio looks at the drawer that is close to his left elbow and gives it a little frown. The faint tap, it was clearly in his mind. A trick of his distraction.

He moves decisively to open the drawer that she had gestured to.]

'Complicated' is a good word for it. If it is true. Yes. It is foolish, but-- [He frowns, again, as he takes hold of the drawer pull.] I hope to find it. To refute it. Or... if it is, ah, true, then--we would know. Though I do not know what we would do, after that.

[skulltasm]

[ It's probably because the tapping is the sound of bone on glass within the cabinet, and not tapping on the cabinet itself. But wait, was that a sigh? Just then, before more rapid tapping? ]

[heirring]

Well. If it were true, I can hardly imagine that the gentleman in question is the first person to— [But she is distracted from finishing the thought, her frowning study of the cabinets deepening.]

Do you hear that?

[Is a somewhat hypothetical question, given that Wysteria doesn't wait for an answer before she hauls open one of the drawers between them to investigate that strange rattle.]

[assistente]

Um.

[And then he has to take a quick step backwards to avoid the drawer--but with cautious interest, he leans forward to peer inside the drawer, too, to see what is making the noise.]

[skulltasm]

[ As soon as the drawer opens it's obvious what the sound is, because there's that telltale green glow coming from within and that tapping is suddenly very clearly the sound of bone on glass. ]

FINALLY! I THOUGHT I'D NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN!

[heirring]

[For a moment, Wysteria regards the jar in the drawer and the skull inside of it. Then, with her hand still on the handle, she glances up to Salvio and effects some unfathomable wiggling of the eyebrows that could roughly translate to Shall I shut the drawer again? but might just as easily be Isn't this nice; I thought we could do with company.]

[assistente]

[Salvio does not sigh. He does close his eyes for a second, then opens them again and looks at the ceiling, which could roughly translate to, It is too late, it has seen us, leave the drawer open, but might just as easily be I am so happy to see the Skull that I am silently praising the Maker.

He moves forward and reaches for the jar.]

I did not know you were in the office.

[skulltasm]

NEITHER DID I, UNTIL I GOT BORED ENOUGH TO READ.

[ if he had arms, he'd be holding them the way a child does while chanting up, up! ]

NEVER A DULL MOMENT 'ROUND HERE WHEN ANY GIVEN MOMENT YOU MIGHT BE BLACK-BAGGED AND SHOVED INTO A DRAWER.

[heirring]

[With the jar and skull retrieved, Wysteria slowly closes the cursed drawer.]

I don't suppose you've read any correspondence from a distressed mage while you were in there, did you? The Seneschal is evidently on the hunt for a bit of mail.

[assistente]

I'm--

[Somewhat strained, as he carries the jar over to a flat pillow beside the office's sole bank of windows (two, both cut too high to offer a view but still allowing in a narrow band of light), a more fitting place--]

--merely looking, to confirm.

[skulltasm]

[ wheee! ]

NOPE, NO MAIL IN THAT DRAWER. A PAMPHLET ON GOATS AND A TREATISE ON BUTTERFLIES, THOUGH.

[ A pair of eyes pop into the skull's sockets, rolling until their gaze lands on Salvio. ]

WHY, DID SOMETHING HAPPEN? YOU LOOK MORE HARRIED THAN USUAL, SAL.

[heirring]

We had a gentleman with some complaints make an appearance, and then become possessed. It was quite the to do. The dining hall is in recovery.

[She moves to the (theoretically correct) drawer hanging open and begins thumbing through the available rows there.]

[assistente]

[Salvio winces slightly at possessed, but as his eyes are always quite watery and squinted, said wince blends in quite nicely with his overall look.

He crouches down, in order to avoid the Skull's sudden eyeballs, and turns his attention to the cupboards there. Never mind that Poppell is looking in the more correct place. He must be busy.]

Yes. Precisely as Poppell said. I will transport you there, later, if you-- if you wish to see for yourself. And there was evidence of a letter, a letter to the-- to the person, in question, which is what we are-- what I am looking for, and Poppell has offered her assistance.

[skulltasm]

EVIDENCE, OR TESTIMONIAL?

[ Maybe if Skull had facial features or a slightly less grating voice, it might be perceptible that he sobers ever so slightly at this news.

But only slightly. ]

YOU KNOW, BACK WHEN I WAS ALIVE I KNEW A RIGHT NUMPTY OF A FELLOW WHO KEPT UP CORRESPONDENCE WITH THE BUTCHER'S SON FOR MONTHS BEFORE REALIZING HIS MISSIVES WERE BEING INTERCEPTED. SOMEONE ELSE WAS PRETENDING TO BE THE RECIPIENT! WHAT A LARK, EH?

[heirring]

What on earth could have kept a fellow writing to a butcher's son for so long? That seems like a very long time to entertain a discussion about meat. —No it is this drawer, Seneschal. Here, allow me to pass you these stacks from the back so we might review them more thoroughly in the light.

[She begins to peel reams of paper from rear of the cabinet.]

[assistente]

I have always found butchers to be interesting, [Salvio says, quietly, and mostly to himself, and then,] oh-- yes-- um, I will--

[His joints creak audibly as he struggles to quickly stand, so he can accept the stacks from Wysteria and begin shuttling them to the table.]

In any case. The letter that was found--evidence, and testimonial, in its way. It was one side of the correspondence. I suppose--interception is the most likely, in this case, but I--perhaps a small, um, slightly smaller stack, Poppell, this next--time-- [breathless, as he accepts the next stack of papers from her] --I want to be certain.

[skulltasm]

I IMAGINE THEY TALKED ABOUT MORE THAN JUST MEAT, POPPELL. MAYBE EVEN MORE THAN ONE KIND!

[ With the attention no longer on him, Skull lets his eyeballs disappear. Without any sound effects, too! ]

GOODNESS, I HOPE WE DON'T HAVE A MOLE. HOW POSITIVELY DREADFUL.

[heirring]

Yes, of course. This one is much smaller-- [she is saying, and it is a rather more reasonable pile of papers; she also fumbles it thanks to the startled (equal parts horrified and enchanted) exclamation of:] --A MOLE!

[And so dumps the whole stack more onto Salvio than otherwise.]

[assistente]

Oh-- [Salvio tries to make a sort of cradle of his arms, to catch the small deluge of papers. Most of them smatter onto the ground despite this effort, scattering on the floor.] That's, you--

[He stoops to gather some of the straying pages. Another creak of joints; he winces, oddly balanced, one arm clasping paper to his chest, the other actively seeking other paper.]

I do not think it will be anything so-- so dramatic. As a mole. This is a very... Well. I cannot imagine it, in Riftwatch.